


the fisher king blues

by poppyharris



Series: enigmas [2]
Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: Eric's POV, Other, Suicide, probably hella disrespectful sorry, school shooting, serious because i am a v good author who is very serious all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: eric is having the time of his life.
Series: enigmas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042629
Kudos: 6





	the fisher king blues

**Author's Note:**

> so this is waste of time written from eric's point of view
> 
> i'm not going to shoot up a school, honest

eric loved hearing himself breathe.

he was doing something that others couldn’t. rachel? bang! no more breathing for that fuckin’ godly bitch. mr sanders? boom! fucker was gonna be breathing on nothin’ but his own blood for the next few hours.

he spotted an exposed neck poking out from above a desk. man, this was too easy! boom, the kid was dead. this was great! eric saw dylan listing through the shelves, looking like he’d seen a ghost. oh well, at least eric was enjoying himself.

sirens began to blare again, and eric seized the opportunity to hurry over to the window, crouching on the right side. someone had obviously seen him, as a shot rang out, hitting the ceiling. stupid pigs. he stood, and fired. ugh, stupid wind! fuck cops, and fuck wind. eric could feel his hands being steadied, like he had someone holding them. okay. take his shot, squeeze and… fucking hell! that was it. the glass of the car shattered beautifully, enough to make eric tear up a little.

eric stood, making sure he wasn’t in sight of anyone outside, looking over at dylan. why was he being so weird about this? they’d both been fucking ecstatic, and now dylan was acting like he didn’t want to be here. god, there was a fucking reason eric preferred playing doom on his own. 

eric took a step towards dylan, pushing arlene into the small of his back. he whipped around, his eyes manic. “vod, bro, you ready?” eric asked, sounding like he was asking dylan if he was ready to ride a rollercoaster, not blow his fucking brains out. dylan nodded slowly, his nose scrunched. eric wanted to ask dylan if he’d enjoyed this, if everything he’d been searching for had finally come together. 

had it been worth it? hell fucking yeah. eric had lived doom, had been mickey and mallory rolled into one. who cared if eric was white trash? he’d caused red trash.

eric reloaded his gun, watching dylan fumble with his tec slightly. he seemed caught up in something, but eric didn’t give a fuck enough to care. they nodded, and eric rested arlene on his lips. closest he was gonna get to a woman.

“three!” he called out into the air, the sound of quiet sobs reaching his ears. 

“two!” the smell of fresh blood attacked his nose.

“one!” the coolness of arlene suddenly hit eric, but it was too late. he forced the rest of the barrel into his mouth, scraping the roof, and squeezed the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> title: the fisher king blues by frank turner


End file.
